As summer progressed, I still had something to look forward to, summer school. Like a joyous reunion I greeted each of my friends as we started Drivers Ed. I had never been so happy to flunk a class in my life. Along with all the people I did know, there was one I had not seen around school before. He had a shy smile and dark black hair, often smelling lightly of clove, from the cigarettes he smoked. He caught my eye, and as fate would have it, I had also caught his.
   To this day, whenever I hear the song "The Summer of 69" my memories of him from that time come flooding back. Looking for all the world like a young James Dean, holding himself in a proud slouch, white t-shirt blazing in the sun, a cigarette hanging from the side of his mouth.
   Ta...

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